


Tear My Walls Down Then Put Me Back Together

by RightNow2808



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 22:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RightNow2808/pseuds/RightNow2808
Summary: As usually, Roger is there when Rafa loses.





	Tear My Walls Down Then Put Me Back Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is something simple and short, which I wrote while watching Eurovision :)  
> I hope you enjoy, even though it's nothing special.  
> Thank you for reading :)

Rafa wasn’t exactly sad. He wasn’t exactly angry either. He couldn’t quite place what the emotion running through him was, but he didn’t want to think about it too much. He only wanted to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible and go to sleep. He was tired and that he couldn’t deny.

After press conference he felt a little bit guilty, because he hadn’t given the nicest answers and he had come off as distant and angry. It was just so hard to get his head into it, just like back on the court. His hair was still a bit wet when he finally sat down into the car and they drove off back to the hotel. He leaned his head on Carlos’ shoulder, absently noting how his coach patted his thigh.

“Get some rest, Raf, you’re getting up early tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late with Roger, okay?”

Rafa barely nodded. He was planning on at least taking a nap immediately.

“You should have said something,” Carlos continued.

“Said what?” Rafa asked, his eyes already closed. The soft vibrations from the car were quickly lulling him off to sleep.

“How you’re feeling.”

“I’m just tired, Carlos, it’s nothing new.”

Carlos sighed. “You’re not just tired, you’re exhausted.” He tapped Rafa’s thigh to catch his attention.

“Mmm?” Rafa asked, quite annoyed.

“Come on, don’t fall asleep yet. Ice bath and a massage are still waiting for you.”

“Noo,” Rafa moaned. Titín chuckled from where he was sitting to his left. “Can I at least sleep during the massage?” he asked after a second.

“We’ll see,” Carlos replied.

“Your shoulder… it’s so… uncomfortable.” It took less than ten seconds before he started snoring softly. Carlos and Titín exchanged amused looks, but there was still a slightly dark atmosphere around them. Rafa shouldn’t have lost so easily. Everything seemed fine until just the last moment when Rafa had suddenly got unexplainedly nervous. They will analyse it tomorrow, but for now they should just let Rafa rest.

When they arrived at the hotel they had to shake Rafa for one minute straight, before he finally blinked sleepily, looking around himself completely disoriented.

“Come on, out you go,” Carlos said fondly, pulling Rafa out of the car. He placed a hand on Rafa’s shoulder and kept it there while he led Rafa into the hotel and up to his room. Other members of the team will take care of Rafa’s bags.

Carlos could always count on Roger to be the one to handle it from their hotel room on.

“Ohhhh, bed,” Rafa moaned, after Carlos used his key card to open the door. Roger came running to the hall immediately after he heard the noises, but Rafa walked straight past him, disappearing into their bedroom. Roger looked after him with raised eyebrows, before he turned to Carlos with a worried look on his face. Carlos just shrugged his shoulders.

“Rafa!” he yelled after him. “An ice bath and a massage! Then you can go to bed.”

“Noo!” was Rafa’s stubborn answer.

Roger couldn’t help himself. He pressed a hand against his mouth, trying to supress his laughter. He sobered up a bit after he remembered that this probably wasn’t only tiredness. Rafa must have been at least a bit hurt after a loss like that. Roger watched the match from their hotel room and he could feel that something just wasn’t right.

“Let me talk to him,” he said to Carlos and Rafael Maymo. The rest of the team who came with the other car was now gathering at the entrance of their suit and Roger invited them all in, while he cautiously walked into the bedroom.

Rafa was lying on the bed. His eyes were closed, but Roger could tell that he wasn’t sleeping. He sat down beside him, running his hand through Rafa’s hair until the Spaniard opened one eye to look at him.

“An ice bath and a massage,” Roger reminded him softly. Rafa groaned and buried his face into the pillow. “I know, baby, I know. But it’ll be over quickly. I’ll order room service while Maymo takes care of you and then you can sleep for as long as you like, okay?”

“Okay,” Rafa agreed a few seconds later, his voice muffled by the pillow. Roger smiled fondly, running his hand up and down Rafa’s back.

Rafa got so good at masking his pain, but there was still a slight limp in his steps when he stood up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. Roger bit his lip in pain. He hated the thought of Rafa being in pain constantly, but the fact was that they were all used to it by now.

He followed through with his promise and picked up the phone, calling the room service. He ordered fish for Rafa, something light for his stomach, but something with enough protein for muscle regeneration. He heard Rafa complaining in Spanish from the bathroom. He heard splashes of water and when Rafa started cursing he was just thankful that he wasn’t in his place.

Food arrived just when Rafa came from the bathroom wrapped just in a towel, shivering, his teeth chattering and his lips almost completely blue. Roger wanted nothing more than to hug him and warm him up, but Rafa still had to undergo a sports massage and there were simply too many people around them. The Mallorquín they were speaking was too quick for Roger to catch, but he knew Maymo and Francisco were asking about how he felt physically.

Roger went to open the door to the room service, thanking the deliverer and then took the tray to the big room that was a dining and a living room all at once. Rafa was already on the massage table and he moaned half in pain half in pleasure while Titín repeatedly dug his fingers into the muscles of his thighs.

“Food,” he announced.

“Fish!” Rafa exclaimed, audibly sniffing the air.

“Yes, is it okay?” Roger asked, sitting down on the couch.

“Sí! Thank you, Rogi,” his voice was tired, but full of gratitude. Rafa had no idea what he would do without all those wonderful people around him. Roger turned on the TV, Carlos joining him. Roger wanted to ask him, what went wrong with Rafa’s game, but he didn’t want to with Rafa right there. There was a Spanish show on the TV and it wasn’t really interesting, but Roger watched because it improved his poor Spanish.

“Okay, you’re done,” Maymo said, after the episode was almost over. Roger could understand that. With a long groan Rafa rolled off the table, wrapping a towel around his hips. Roger was surprised Rafa stayed awake during the massage, but on the other hand it was often so painful that sleeping was the last thing on your mind.

Rafa ate his fish, staring somewhere at the wall. Roger could almost see his eyes dropping close from where he was still sitting on the couch.

“Do you want to go down to dinner with us?” Carlos asked him. It was clear to everyone that Rafa would go straight to bed and Roger would never leave him in a state like that. He shook his head, smiling at Carlos.

“No, thank you, I ate everything in the fridge compulsively during Rafa’s match.”

Carlos nodded grimly. “That’s why I never take anything to eat with me.”

Rafa finished about half of the fish, before he pushed the plate away.

“Buenas noches,” he mumbled, before walking to the bedroom without another word. He was swaying a little bit but made it to the bedroom safely. A chorus of “buenas noches’” followed him.

“Was he hurting during the match?” Roger asked, turning to Maymo with a worried look on his face.

“He said it was nothing more than usual,” Titín replied, but he seemed worried too. “He said it’s not a big deal, that he just didn’t feel himself. We’ll see how practice goes tomorrow.”

Roger nodded. He knew Rafa didn’t like if he analysed his game too much. He kept thinking Roger would use it against him as his rival and perhaps he would even if subconsciously. They spoke for a few more minutes, before Rafa’s team left to get ready for dinner. After the door finally closed, Roger allowed himself a small exhale. He hadn’t been quite able to think ever since Rafa came back to the hotel.

He knew Rafa was a human being and he won’t make a big deal out of this defeat just like Rafa said. But a part of him still worried for this human he loved so much. He took a quick shower and brushed his teeth. He turned all the lights off, made sure to lock the door and then walked into the bedroom. Rafa carried a small bed light in a shape of a ghost that gave away soft green light everywhere he went and Rafa’s face was softly illuminated by it.

What surprised Roger was that Rafa wasn’t asleep though. His eyes were opened, and he seemed more awake than in the whole time since they came back to the hotel. He didn’t move when Roger entered, he didn’t even look at him. Roger’s heart broke at the disappointment that shone from Rafa’s eyes.

He climbed on the bed slowly, placing a hand on the small of Rafa’s back. Rafa’s skin was usually so warm, but now it was almost icy cold like he still hadn’t warmed up from that ice bath. Roger took the duvet and put it over Rafa’s body.

“Talk to me,” he said, taking one of Rafa’s hands into his.

“What?” Rafa asked, his eyes finally focusing on Roger. This made Roger feel at least a little bit better.

“Are you okay, Raf? What’s going on?” he asked carefully.

Anger suddenly flashed through Rafa’s eyes. “I am not some tennis robot, Roger! I am human and I fuck up, okay?” His voice broke in the middle of the second sentence and then he was crying, pushing his head into Roger’s chest, his tears quickly wetting the material of his T-shirt.

There had been way too much pressure on Rafa. That was clear now. Everything from his winning streak to his consecutive sets had been too much for him. Perhaps it was better he lost now than at Roland Garros. Roger stroked his hair, murmuring to him softly.

Rafa calmed down quickly. Keeping all of that inside of his has taken its toll, but he was okay.

“Sorry,” he murmured. Roger reached for the tissue and Rafa took it gratefully. “I feel guilty I disappoint the fans, is all,” he admitted after a few seconds of silence.

“You know well enough that the real ones will understand, and the others, believe me, they don’t deserve you.” Rafa smiled at the line Roger used every time when Rafa lost and felt down by it.

“Hey, thank you,” he said, pressing his nose against Roger’s.

“No problem. Do you feel better now?”

Rafa nodded, the last sniffles dying. Roger slowly leaned closer, still being a bit careful, but Rafa was the one to close the distance between them and kiss him slowly. Roger could faintly taste the salt of Rafa’s tears. He wanted them to disappear as soon as possible even though they were good in this case. It was goof Rafa let all of this out.

“Moving on to Rome?” Roger asked after they parted for air. Rafa nodded and a smile finally graced his beautiful but chapped lips. He kissed Roger again and then snuggled himself closer until their bodies were pressed close together. Rafa was completely naked, but they were both way too tired for anything. In the morning maybe.

“I love you so much,” Rafa murmured, pecking Roger’s lips once more. Roger stroked his hair again, tracing his thumb along his high cheek bones, his nose, his lips.

“And I love you,” he replied with a fond smile.

It was barely half past eight, but they were both fast asleep in just seconds.

FIN


End file.
